Anna Blake

Photo & Poem: Spring Storm

by

The storm came so late that shedding season was done, the horse’s coats already thin and slick. So late there were bright leaves on the trees sheltering hatchlings in nests. So late the tank heaters were unplugged and packed away, just days before. Superstition says that’s when storms hit even if it’s too warm to … Read more

Be-Here-Now: Focus on the Task

by

Does your horse get restless or bored when standing with you? Does he pull the rope, trying to graze when you are busy? Am I going to blame you for that, too? I was asked to share a pet peeve, which seems like inviting a donkey to a dinner party, but I’ll try to keep … Read more

Photo & Poem: Asking for Her Eye

by

  She knows my presence before I see her. Under the tree in the far corner of the pasture, no real shade but she stands there, hip cocked at rest, a prairie breeze weaving her tail. Approaching her slowly, regretting what I am but trying to downplay the plain truth, walking an arc, pausing. Has … Read more

Leading from Behind and Green Grass

by

*Public Service Announcement* Your horses pay me a small stipend to remind you of things so obvious to them that they doubt the human ability to reason. They want me to mention that it’s spring in the northern hemisphere. The spring grass is very tender and sweet. The aroma is intoxicating. They say even humans, … Read more

Photo & Poem: Bond

by

  He said show her who’s boss. Standing with her head in the corner and hooves nervous on the straw, a wild-eyed, pregnant pinto pony, no taller than the quiet girl in a boy’s t-shirt. The dad said she has to respect you, setting them up for a fight. He goaded the girl forward, her … Read more